will flock to see me, as they did the last two weeks I played; and I shall have forty francs the week, and Cartouche, and love and work and peace and Toto, and no Louis Bourcet! And how angry Julie Campionet will be!"
It was so deliciously easy to get at her money—a rip and a stitch afterward—ten thousand francs squandered before Louis Bourcet's eyes. Fifi thought the loss of the first ten thousand would rid her of her fiancé, but she knew she could never get Cartouche as long as she had even ten thousand francs left, and she realized fully that it was Cartouche that she wanted most of anything in the world. The Holy Father would probably scold her a little, but Fifi felt sure, if she could only tell the Holy Father just how she felt and how good Cartouche was, and also how odiously good Louis Bourcet was, he would forgive her.
The more Fifi thought of this scheme of getting rid of Louis Bourcet and entrapping Cartouche the more rapturous she grew. She had two ways of expressing joy and thankfulness—praying and dancing. She plumped down on her knees, and for about twenty seconds thanked God earnestly for having shown her the way to get rid of Louis
